Unbreakable Steel
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: A character study of Betty Cooper through the awed eyes of Jughead Jones. 'There were a lot of things to doubt in this world, but for Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper wasn't one of them. He could use a thousand words to describe her, but he'd be writing books until the end of the world before he could write of all the strength and tenacity and mystery that made up Betty Cooper.' Bughead


**_Soli Deo gloria_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO not own Riverdale.**

 **Y'all know that once I got into this show, I fell for it** ** _hard_** **. :D**

There were many characters in the story of Jason Blossom's death. Some surrounded his murder while some surrounded his life; others surrounded the aftermath of his death.

Jason Blossom was a flawed young man who was also the victim of this story. Jughead figured he should probably know more about the main character of his novel than he did; while Jughead had observed the popular boy in school, on the field, and joking in constant cliques of friends, he didn't know what was going on inside of his head. Every piece of evidence and addition to the story added twisted, revealing layers to everybody involved in it.

In writing his novel about Jason Blossom, Jughead included everybody attached to his death; he described them with almost a clinical air, as characters in a story instead of people in real life that he _knew_ , who lived and breathed and were just as much citizens of little Riverdale as he was. He was objective rather than letting his feelings write everybody out. He easily wrote of Alice Cooper's obvious bitter hatred of the Blossoms; of Fred Andrews's run-in with Clifford Blossom; of Polly Cooper—in love with Jason Blossom, mother of the children of Jason Blossom, _engaged_ to Jason Blossom—and of her sister.

Jughead sat back in his booth at Pop's and stared at his screen. Here was where he introduced the conclusions he and Betty had handpicked from their murder board in the _Blue and Gold_ newspaper room. They'd used typical sleuthing techniques such as deducting, looking at the evidence from different angles, and listening to the several different sides of the one story.

He could write out a murder-mystery with ease; his writing style wrote simply of the drama, of the undertones and undercurrents running under the pristine image of their smalltown America. Shadows crept in as the neon lights of Pop's flickered. 50s' jukebox music played in the background as a classic throwback, but even the light bop in the background wasn't loud enough to cover the secret whisperings being passed around inside booths, from friend to friend, in hopes that it _was_ a friend they were talking to, and not someone who'd suddenly stab them in the back.

He could write of this mysterious, nostalgic, _not_ idyllic little town, and this gruesome cruel murder, but when it came to writing of Betty's involvement, his fingers faltered at the keys.

How could he write her? How could he describe her? Would he go full clinical, as if she was just a character in this story, not someone living and breathing and _beautiful_ and fierce and loyal and full of persistence and hope—could he?

Or would he go full romantic, showing off a side of the cynical Jughead Jones that would make people gape in astonishment? _Jughead_ wrote this about Betty? _Jughead Jones_ , who sees the world through a dirty telescope and seems ever the pessimist? _He_ wrote these words about Betty Cooper?

Well, this led to a thought he mulled over for a while: what were those words? What 'romantic' words would he use to describe the indescribable Betty Cooper?

Well, he knew how he would write out Veronica Lodge. Not romantically, of course. That would be . . . strange, weird, and altogether quite never-happening. Veronica Lodge was easy to write out. She threw out several adjectives into people's minds the moment she strutted into the room: brilliant, gorgeous, beautiful, mesmerizing, magnetic, charming, disarming, startling, and humorous. Veronica Lodge was a shooting star, sparkling against a dark night sky with a winsome smile and pizzazz that no one in Riverdale could touch. She was popular and confident, persistent and loyal, and pretty good-looking besides. There were many layers to Veronica Lodge. Jughead found himself only interested in her loyal and brilliant tendencies. He didn't have much use for her shallowness and vapidity, her gullibility and ability to throw money at some problems just to make them disappear. He could notice but not take heed or to heart her flirtatious habits or little clever sentences that ran like little Cupid's arrows into Archie's boyish, infatuated heart.

See? Writing out Veronica Lodge was easy. It was because she was visually loud about who she was, and also had a tongue that she commanded with a loose but skillful rein.

Archie Andrews was easy to write out, too. Jughead loved the guy, as a friend and a brother, but he wasn't blind to Archie's faults and tendencies. He played with two different tendencies: fickleness and loyalty. Two seemingly warring tendencies that still co-existed, almost peaceably, inside of Archie. He didn't fight them, trying to only have one. He was fickle with his extracurricular wants—football or music? He was loyal to his wants for his friends and family—he wanted his dad to succeed with his business, he wanted Jughead and his dad to be exonerated of all false charges, he wanted Betty to be okay, he wanted Veronica to be happy. He was fickle with his affections—Miss Grundy, Valerie, Veronica—Jughead had a secret theory that Archie liked (a least a tiny bit, mostly because of the flattery) that Cheryl liked him a little. At least Archie had nothing but warm-hearted, brotherly affection for Betty Cooper. He was loyal and not fickle in that way. Jughead could breathe a sigh of relief over that. He'd never have to worry about Archie changing his mind above his feelings for Betty.

Jughead had an observant streak; he could sit in the same booth at Pop's for the entire day and not say a word or interact with anyone but could see all about the lives bubbling over around him. They were loud; Riverdale's people hid secrets in their hearts, even as they wore their feelings on their sleeves. He could write about any of them. The way Pop knew just what words to say to the loner sitting at the bar at eleven-thirty at night; how Hermione Lodge would bite her lip to hold back an exonerating remark when people around her muttered accusations, rumors, and lies right to her face and behind her back.

How Cheryl Blossom wore her red lipstick as a shield; how Fred Andrews tried to keep himself steady on the line between being nagging and negligent to his friends. How Josie McCoy never mentioned her father's name but always scanned a crowd expectantly, looking for a familiar face. How Moose avoided Kevin's eyes. How Alice Cooper's hand could grab an arm just as quick as soothe that same arm.

He could write so many things about the people of this town. Given how much of Riverdale's convoluted secrets and lurking shadows had come into the stark spotlight, he now couldn't be sure how much of those things were true and how much was put up as a façade, to fake the show until the curtains closed. How much could you know about a person, about people you've known your whole life? How much do you really know them?

Jughead thought of himself as a realist with pessimistic tendencies. He'd lived through too much and felt the brunt of too many disappointments to give any real credence to optimism. It took all of him just to stay in the neutral territory of realism: he didn't _want_ to look for the bad, inevitable and unavoidable and inherent as it seemed, so deeply-rooted in all the human nature all around him. He wanted to see the good in people, to hope that they could become something better than they already were, better than the things they'd already done. He wanted to hope that people could change for the better. That Riverdale was better than this. That human nature was better than this. That his father was better than this.

That's a word he could use to describe Betty Cooper, this wonderful girl whose capabilities of showing virtues and admirable traits were beyond anything he'd ever witnessed in anyone. Betty Cooper was an optimist. She could see the good in people, believe that they had good intentions, or vows to mend their ways and be better in the future. She believed in Polly, she believed in Kevin, she believed in Archie, Veronica, . . . and _him_. When all evidence pointed against him, she grabbed Jughead's hand with a fierce grip and stood by his side, unwavering and unchanging. She was vehemently against wrongs, especially wrong accusations, wrong thoughts, and wrongs against humanity. She fought for the truth behind the matter until all was revealed.

Betty Cooper was a keen sleuth. She was indefatigable, relentless, and hopeful. She had a clever eye, an insatiable thirst for truth, and the most unstoppable persistence Jughead had ever seen. She wouldn't take "no" for answer. She couldn't stand by. Betty Cooper was no watcher in the stands, no spectator. She stood up and screamed until no one could push her aside. She fought and she stood firm and she was indomitable.

Jughead couldn't count the number of times he stood by her side and just stared at her, staring at her in amazement and in wonder at the capability of one single, good person. She often made him feel awed.

Betty Cooper was made of steel. Circumstances hardened her, but she let herself be softened. She wasn't a warrior, by any means. She was a sixteen-year-old teenager—a teenager who lived with heartbreak over losing the hope of a great love with her best friend, who was oblivious to her feelings and, while well-meaning, able to break her heart. She could live and grow past that, could take up the feelings of others and hold sturdy, like a strong tower. She could take her father's selfishness and her mother's manipulation and her sister's situation and not break, but hold them together. She could take it all and not move a step.

She could be a fierce loving friend to the boy who caused her undue, unintended, but still aching anguish. She could be the BFF of the new kid, who, even though rich, had to bear the sins of her father everywhere she went. She could be the only one standing still in the middle of a storm, like the tornado could engulf her and instead of controlling her, throwing her around every which way it pleased, she could control _it_.

And him. _Him._ How had pretty, delightful, blonde-haired, warm-smiling, brilliant ray of sunshine, Betty Cooper, be with _him_ , Jughead Jones? He was an outsider and he damn well owned that. He wasn't the good kid that Archie Andrews was, who mothers didn't mind hanging out with their daughters on a school night. He was from the wrong side of the tracks, the son of a criminal father falsely accused of atrocious crimes and a mother who fled with his little sister, just to save them from the danger. He was a tainted part of a broken home that was a mar on the pretty face Riverdale liked to wear. He wasn't something that the Mayor and Principal Weathersbee wanted to admit even existed, never mind wasn't the bad product that his environment must spit out.

Betty Cooper, with her hopeful, optimistic eyes, could see him like no one else could. That despite all the I-don't-care attitude he radiated, that he _did_ care. He cared about very few people, granted, but where his affections ran, they ran _deep_. She knew that sarcasm painted most of his words to the common fodder, but were carefully-chosen and heartfelt and vulnerable with those he cared about. She could see all those parts of him: the struggling optimist, the forever realist, the pesky pessimist. She could see all he wanted to be and all he really was. She could see all that, and still squeeze his hand, and smile at him, and stand by his side, as immovable as a tower.

Jughead didn't pretend to know every single thing about Betty Cooper. She was both the person most well-known to him, the person he knew almost more than himself, and a mystery, with something new about her that he noticed every single day. But he knew one particular reason as to maybe why she stood by him. Maybe it was because she recognized the undeniable darkness in himself as the same darkness that waged for dominance in her own life, in her own soul. Maybe she looked at him and saw someone just like herself.

That would make them soulmates, wouldn't it?

Maybe.

That was a stupid thought, anyway. How could good girl Betty Cooper see Jughead Jones, social outcast and pretty proud of it, as anyone similar to her?

But maybe it _was_ because of how similar they were. How they wanted to see the good in people. How loyal they were to those they loved. How they wanted to keep their families together, despite on how intent they seemed about breaking apart. How neither of them wanted to grow up to be like their parents. How they believed in people even when no one else did. How they wanted to seek the truth out, and reveal the dark shadows only growing ever-present in Riverdale, speaking about these shadows instead of just tiptoeing around the subject like the rest of their town liked to do.

Or maybe it was because she loved him and he loved her. Who knew.

There were a lot of things to doubt in this world, but for Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper wasn't one of them. He could use a thousand words to describe her, but he'd be writing books until the end of the world before he could write of all the encompassing thoughts and feelings and strength and tenacity and mystery that made up Betty Cooper. So in his book, he decided just to write about how he knew her. That could be the only route he could go. He could only write about beautiful Betty Cooper in all of her flawless yet flawed humanity.

There was one thing about her that Jughead knew for sure, though:

Betty Cooper was made of unbreakable steel.

 **All I could think of while watching Betty in Riverdale, especially when she defended Jughead and Polly and fought against her mother's manipulation, was, 'Betty Cooper is made of steel.'**

 **Also, Jughead is like my new favorite character. Like,** ** _Jughead_** **,** ** _man_** **.**

 **I hope you liked it! Please review?**


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